


Trashmouth takes a dive.

by redsweater (cokebottleglasses)



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - High School, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier-centric, Juniors or Seniors, M/M, Minor Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, One Shot, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier is a Little Shit, Sad Richie Tozier, Short One Shot, They're like Juniors in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 13:44:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17204456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cokebottleglasses/pseuds/redsweater
Summary: Based off the prompt : " Do you want to tell me why you’re in a dumpster or should I guess? "





	Trashmouth takes a dive.

To say that Richard Tozier had a good amount of self loathing in him would be an understatement. One would think that caring for others means that he should also care for himself, right? Wrong. The boy hardly did what he needed to survive and his parents, who half-assed nearly everything they did with him, didn't help one bit. He was neglected, starved, and ignored nearly his whole childhood. That is, until Wentworth Tozier, Richie's father, had begun to have enough of his son's sass and backtalk. At that point, Richie tried his best to stay out of his fathers way. If he didn't, or if he messed up in any way, the entire household could become a battle ground. 

Maybe that's why he isn't moving from his spot inside the dumpster. He didn't want to be in there to begin with, but he hardly could muster up the energy to move. After being roughed up and thrown in by his new high school bullies, they left the trash mouth to sit and stew in his natural habitat.

Trash. 

To make things worse, Richie had lit a cigarette. Now the smoke and the trash smell were just mixing together and- Yeah, now he might just get out. 

Lifting himself into a sitting position with a grunt, Richie could only grimace at the squelching noise his shoes made while the trash moved under him. How long would it take for them to get washed and dried correctly? Who knows. He'll just try to fix them with the hose outside of his house and a shit ton of dish soap. He then scrambles for the edge of the dumpster, wincing once again while his aching body moves for the first time since being pummeled. Sure, the rest of The Losers Club got bullied every once in a while, but Richie couldn't keep his mouth shut. That's one of the reasons why he gets shit the most. Maybe if he had ever learned to stop talking he wouldn't be in this mess.

Oh well.

Forcing his arms to lift and his legs to swing, he makes it over the edge of the dumpster and very much gracelessly flings his body out onto the hard concrete below, groaning as soon as his back touches the asphalt. Another insult to injury. If that wasn't bad enough, Richie didn't even notice someone screaming when his body had suddenly been retched out of the dumpster. He probably scared the shit out of an innocent passerbyer. 

" Sorry, M'lady, tis but a flesh wound. "

Richie's voice cracked out into the cold winter air. He didn't even know if he was talking to a lady or not. The scream did seem shrill enough to be female, though. 

" Richie, you dumb fuck! " 

Oh. Okay. That's definitely not what he was expecting. 

Rolling his eyes up to look at the boy in front of him, Richie lets his lips form a wide grin. Standing in front of him was his friend of many years, bundled up in about 3 heavy winter coats with a bag from a pharmacy hanging off of his arm. 

" Why if it isn't my special little Eddie Spaghetti! How's it goin' ol' chap? "

" Don't call me that, asshole. Why the hell were you just-just so casually hanging around inside of a dumpster? Don't you know how many- oh, god, I'm going to be sick- " 

Eddie leans over to the side, groaning while he tries not to actively vomit. Richie moves to get up and help his friend out, only for the shorter boy to hold a hand out accusingly. 

" Don't come any closer to me! "

" Oh, come on- "

" No! You smell. You're coming over to my house, you are taking a shower, and then I'll help fix you up. God, you're so fucking lucky my mom is out of commission right now or else you'd be in some deep shit- come on. " 

Without sparing another glance to Richie, Eddie begins on his way. Once again, down the alley. 

" Ooh, out of commission? Sorry Ed's I didn't mean to be too rough with her last night. " 

Richie follows his friend, winking at him as he comments on his mother. He takes another cigarette out of his back pocket and lights it, careful to be downwind of Eddie. The asthma may be fake, but he'll still humor the guy. 

" How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that? And- quit it. Or would you rather spend the night in the dumpster? " 

Holding up his hands in mock surrender, Richie quickly takes a drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke before he speaks. 

" No thanks. I feel like you'd miss me too much. I know Mrs. K sure would. " 

And here he goes again, wiggling his eyebrows while he smokes some more. They turn a corner and leave the alley, back on a main road. Here, thanks to the street lights, Eddie can see the full damage of what's been done to the Trash Mouth. 

" Oh. Shit. " 

The shorter boy looks his friend up and down, growing more concerned by the moment. 

" Did you want to tell me why you were in the dumpster, or should I guess ? "

Shrugging his shoulders, Richie throws the roach of his cigarette to the side, letting it burn out on its own. Sure, it was wasteful, but he lost the taste for the nicotine as soon as Eddie sounded the tiniest bit concerned about him. 

" You probably already know why. Trash mouth does what he does best. " 

He runs a hand through his hair, looking nearly everywhere but at Eddie.

" Well, are you going to give specifics or anything? You look like shit. You must have really said something to make them.. more than only mad, Rich."

Staying silent for a moment, Richie purses his lips together and lets his eyes linger on a streetlight, not wanting to make eye contact with Eddie. Not right now. Not while he's more vulnerable than he should be.

"... How much time do you have? "

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time trying anything like this, so i hope you enjoy?? Feel free to yell at me in the comments or on twitter @olimicah


End file.
